


25th Annual Paladin County Spelling Bee (Voltron S8 fix-it fic)

by lavenderlionlisa



Category: The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee - Finn/Sheinkin/Reiss, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam (Voltron) Lives, Allura (Voltron) Lives, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Character Death Fix, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Crack, Game Shows, Gen, Humor, I don't know how to indent in ao3 please send help, Lotor (Voltron) Lives, M/M, Musical References, Theater kid things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-17 14:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16976466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlionlisa/pseuds/lavenderlionlisa
Summary: The paladins of Voltron go into the space between realities, but instead of dying or turning Altean, Bob the inter-dimensional game show host challenges them to participate in a spelling bee. Hilarity ensues.





	25th Annual Paladin County Spelling Bee (Voltron S8 fix-it fic)

The empty white landscape, the abyss outside reality, with its shifting pearlescence, vanished before the paladins of Voltron in a blinding flash of light. Out of the infinite, primordial nothingness, they heard the call of a lone voice...

"Hello, and welcome to Garfle Warfle Snick, Spelling Bee Edition!"

After the cheers of the studio audience died down, the paladins stood for a few seconds in stunned silence. Allura cleared her throat. "I beg your pardon, Bob, but... why the quiznak are we here again, and why now?"

"Shh," Lance cautioned, "you'll make him mad."

"Let us out," Keith commanded, slamming his hands down on the contestant podium. "We've already done this game show, and the universe needs us RIGHT NOW!"

Meanwhile, Hunk was all smiles and sunshine: "I, for one, would love to participate in a spelling bee. If it doesn't, you know, get everyone in the multiverse killed."

"Well, on one hand, so would I," Pidge conceded, tempted by the chance to prove her book smarts yet again, "but on the other hand, now is really not the time. After all, at this very moment, Honerva is ripping apart the very fabric of all realities."

Bob leaned over with a look of curiosity. "Wait... that's what you thought that was?"

"Thought what was? That place? The beginning of time, the space outside realities?"

The game show host cackled, ridiculing the contestants' concern. "No, no, you've got it all wrong. You really think ONE PERSON has the power to destroy ALL realities? Reality isn't that flimsy, you silly paladins! Hasn't it occurred to you that in the infinite array of infinite universes, there are infinite beings infinitely more powerful than she is? Like, to the power of INFINITY?" He straightened his collar. "Take me, for example. I don't like to brag... and I won't, 'cause I don't have to. I have natural interdimensional capabilities much stronger than any of your pseudoscience. Or hers, for that matter. That place you were before? That wasn't 'the space outside reality' or whatever. That was the space between your dimension and this one, between your reality and my game show. Those beams of light Honerva destroyed were actually inter-reality superhighways I use to summon heroes from different timelines... I don't approve of her breaking them, of course, but it's not going to be the end of existence. I can rebuild them, even!"

"Okay, I guess the universe being stable enough to withstand reality-bending makes sense," Pidge acquiesced. "After all, we've been to alternate realities before without suffering consequences. And now that I think about it, in the infinite universes, we probably weren't the first. But what I'm saying is, we can't be in your spelling bee, because we have to—"

"Shut the quiznak up," Bob interrupted. "Nobody cares. None of you get a say in whether you have to participate. I'm the only one who gets a say, and you have to participate. Now, let's see which paladin is truly the smartest."

"Pidge," said Hunk.

"Pidge," said Keith.

"Me," said Pidge.

Allura nodded. "It's Pidge."

"I dunno," said Lance. "I think the rest of us might have a chance too. We're all pretty smart here, right?"

"No. I'm going to win, Lance," she snapped. "You might as well forfeit so we can get this over with."

"Pidge!" Allura looked horrified. "That was incredibly rude."

"Yeah," Keith agreed. "Not to sound bossy or anything, but the way you've treated Lance lately has been way out of line."

"Bossy? You're our team leader," Lance pointed out. 

"Well, in that case... Pidge, tell Lance you're sorry, I guess."

"Okay, sorry, guys," she grumbled.

"Besides," Lance added, "how could you even consider that I would forfeit?"

"No forfeits," Bob's antennae swished through the air as he shook his green alien head. "The rules of the game are as follows." He pointed his classroom pointer at the main display board, and alien words in bright colors flashed to life on the screen. "Rule number one: no forfeits, no ties, and no refusing to play. You are all going to spell, and only one of you is going to win."

"And it's going to be me." Katie Holt tilted her head up with confidence, her pride seemingly unchecked even after being called out.

"Well... we'll see about that." Bob tapped the board, and another row of illegible letters appeared. "Rule number two: if you don't know the word, you may ask for a definition and a language of origin. Got it?" Before they could answer, he waved his pointer like a magic wand, and a series of sparkles whirled around to reveal the last rule, "Rule number three: a contestant may ask to spell a word over from the beginning, but the sequence of letters already spoken may not be changed."

"That's not going to be relevant," Pidge interjected, "because I won't have to change my answers. Let's get started!"

Bob threw his hands up in mock intimidation. "Okay, okay!" The studio audience laughed soullessly, as if in an unfunny sitcom. "If you're so confident, how 'bout you go first, eh?"

"Sure."

"Your word is 'viridescent.'"

"Easy," she beamed. "It means something greenish, right? V-I-R-I-D-E—"

"Wrong," Bob cut in. "I said that contestants could ask for a definition. I never said that they could give one."

"Wait, what?"

"Paladin Pidge, for a violation of the spelling bee rules, you are the first one to be eliminated." The crowd gasped in excitement, contrasted against the shock on the faces of the five contestants. Bob thrust his pointer arm out, like a gladiator deciding the fate of his defeated opponent. "Have a nice life!" He turned the pointer down, and a trapdoor opened beneath Pidge, letting her fall, screaming, into unseen darkness below.

The other four paladins looked on in horror. Bob, unfazed, traded his pointer for a microphone. "Well, wasn't that exciting? After a quick word from our sponsors, we'll be right back toooooooo... Garfle, Warfle, Snick!"

Out of nowhere, the blue and orange lights of the studio shut off, leaving everyone on the show to catch their breath, the host included. Bob exhaled and straightened the four sleeves of his alien coat.

"This doesn't seem fair," Lance complained. "Don't most spelling bees have a practice round?"

The inter-dimensional game show host's eyes narrowed. "Most."

"If I may ask," Allura questioned, "why must we participate in a spelling competition? Coran told us you judge the worthiness of great warriors. What was... what was the purpose of...?"

"Of making you prove your worth again?" he finished the thought. "Well, I'll tell you... in song form!"

"Uh, no thanks," said Keith.

Lance nodded. "I'm good."

"We didn't want to know anyway."

"Fine!" Bob huffed. "Just as well, because the break's almost over. The round after the first elimination is my favorite moment of the bee."

The lights of the studio came back on, and he shouted with bravado: "Garflers, warflers, and snicks of all ages, welcome back to the Voltron Paladin Spelling Bee!" The audience cheered.

"So who's going next?" Hunk asked.

"Not it," said Lance.

Keith rolled his eyes. "Lance—"

"What? Did you SEE what happened to Pidge? If there are any other secret rules, I want to know about them."

"If none of you will go voluntarily," Bob said threateningly, "Lance here is going to have to..."

The audience shouted the words along with him: "Spin the wheel!"

The aforementioned prop was rolled onstage by two Bii-boh-bis: a painted game show wheel that looked as if it belonged in a museum for extremely useless artifacts that would only have value in the most specific of circumstances. The wheel was divided into four quarters, each of which had a painted image of one of the four remaining paladins. It was remarkable that Bob had somehow made this in advance. Could he have been seeing into the future to know Pidge would be the first one eliminated? 

"So, Lance, you ready to spin?"

He walked downstage, toward the wheel, and took hold of it. "Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

With such big spaces, the wheel was easy to aim, and Lance could practically choose who would go next. He wondered who it should be. Should he try to save Allura from having to spell, or should he choose her on purpose because he believed in his girlfriend? He thought about the fight on the volcanic planet, when he had tried to make a heroic stand against the pirates with the last of his strength, but Allura knocked out both of them as if it was nothing.

Yes, he trusted her. He took a deep breath and aimed the red arrow toward Allura's quarter. The wheel spun once, then twice, before slowing down...

...And landing decisively on Keith.

Lance winced, anticipating the accusations that he had purposely thrown his rival under the bus. Instead, Keith looked eerily calm as Bob said, "Your word is 'chimerical.'"

"Definition? Language of origin?"

"It's from Greek," he answered, "an adjective, defined as unreal, illusory, or wildly fanciful."

The word rang a bell in Keith's head. He remembered reading about the Chimera in Greek mythology, with Texas Kogane giving him the Percy Jackson series at a young age. This adjective must have been derived from the name of that creature. "C-H-I-M-E-R-I-C-A-L. Chimerical."

"That is correct!" The audience roared their approval. How anyone could be that excited about spelling was beyond Keith's comprehension, but the crowd seemed friendly, the other three were applauding him, and he wasn't currently falling down a trapdoor, so he wasn't about to complain.

"Great work, Keith," Hunk earnestly congratulated.

"Hmm, you seem enthusiastic," Bob said. "How about you go next?"

"Me? Sure," was his reply.

"Your word is 'capybara.'"

"C-A-P-Y-B-A-R-A." He stopped, leaving the studio in silence for a moment.

"After spelling a word," Bob explained, "you must repeat the word you've spelled."

"Capybara."

"Hmmph," he grumbled. "And here I thought we'd get some excitement with you mistakenly spelling the word twice. That is correct."

Hunk did a fist pump in the air. "Yes!"

"Allura, you've been awfully quiet so far," the host remarked, pointing his microphone at the princess. "How would you feel about going next?"

"Well, perhaps I don't have much of a choice," she answered. "But I suppose this is better than dying in the realm outside realities, which is likely what I would be doing otherwise."

"That's the spirit! Your word is 'peregrine.'"

She raised an eyebrow. "May I have a definition?"

Bob pulled out a pocket dictionary from his coat. "Ah yes, let's see... it's an Earth species of falcon used in falconry."

"A... fal...con?"

"An Earthling bird of prey."

"I see." She paused thoughtfully. "Plaxus—"

"Oh, no you don't." he pointed an accusing finger at her. "We're using Earth letters here."

"My apologies. May I start over?"

"Go on."

Allura glanced intently at Keith, Lance, and Hunk, trying her best to remember all the rules of English she'd learned in her time at the Galaxy Garrison. "P... E... R-E... G-R... I... N-E? Peregrine."

The host's eyes went wide. "I don't believe it! Garflers and warflers, let's give this contestant a hand!"

Applause rang out, the loudest of it coming from Lance. He pulled her into a hug. "Allura, that was amazing!"

Keith's face fell. "I'll go next," he offered.

"I don't think so, Keith," Bob chuckled. "We've had three whole words spelled without an elimination, and the snick is getting restless. It's time for... sudden death!"

"A sudden death round... in a spelling bee?" But he didn't have time to question things, because before they knew it, Bob was shouting, "Coryza!"

"Wait, me? Does he mean me? Is it my turn? Uh, C-O-R-Y-Z-A, coryza," Hunk blurted out just seconds before a timer ran out on the board. The timer refilled itself, and Bob pointed his microphone at Lance, yelling, "Staphylococcus!"

Lance inhaled sharply, like a strangled gasp, then panickedly spelled, "S-T-A-P-H-Y-L-O-C-O-C-C-U-S, staphylococcus!"

He turned to Keith next. "Antediluvial!"

"A-N-T-E-D-I-L-U-V-I-A-L, antediluvial."

When Bob proceeded to Allura with "vulpine," she was already mentally prepared and in the zone: "V-U-L-P-I-N-E, vulpine!"

And thus it went on, with "lugubrious" and "ahimsa" and "elanguescence," until Hunk had the misfortune of getting the word "Caitlyn."

"What do you mean, 'Caitlyn'?" he demanded. "It's a proper name with multiple spellings!"

"But," Bob said smugly, "which spelling do I have in mind?"

"Uh, K-A-I-T-L-I-N, Caitlyn?" he guessed.

"Incorrect. Looks like you're going to have to go feed the snick."

"Fine. Whatever. I like cooking." Unlike Pidge with the trapdoor, Hunk simply walked offstage, presumably to learn how to prepare snick food.

"But wait!" Bob flew downstage toward the camera, addressing the audience. "These eliminations aren't over yet, folks... because this time, it's a lightning round!" He snapped his fingers, and a buzzer appeared on each of the three remaining contestants' podiums. "All three players will receive one word at the same time, and the first person to hit the buzzer and spell the word gets a point. Whoever has the fewest points when time runs out... is OUTTA HERE!"

"Hey," Lance protested, "that's not fair! Allura needs more time to convert the Altean letters in her head into English, so the playing field is going to be uneven. It would be like asking one of us to spell backwards!"

"Spelling backwards," Bob tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That's not a bad idea. But for now... lightning round! Zoonosis!"

Keith hit the game show buzzer. "Z-O-O-N-O-S-I-S, zoonosis."

"Correct."

Lance frowned. "Aw man, I was gonna say that."

"But let me guess," Keith muttered, "you're being slow on purpose to help the princess?"

"What? Um, I, I mean, uh, yes," was his response. "Yes, that, that is what I did. Yup."

"Asteraceae!"

Allura pressed the buzzer first, then paused. "A-S-T-E-R-A...C-E-I-A-E, asteraceae?"

"That is incorrect."

She braced herself, waiting for the trapdoor or the giant alien monster, but nothing happened. Meanwhile, Lance asked, "May I have a definition and language of origin?"

"It's from Latin. A large order of flowering Earth plants."

"Wait," he observed, "how come Allura's getting all the words that only apply to Earth?"

"Fine, have it your way, new word. Allura, spell 'crepuscule.'"

"C-R-E-P-U-S-C-U-L-E," she responded without hesitation. "Crepuscule."

"Impressive!"

Lance, suddenly conscious that time was running out and he was the only one who hadn't spelled a word yet, leaned forward, his hand hovering expectantly over the game show buzzer as Bob called out, "Syzygy!"

Luckily, as a space exploration and astronomy student, Lance had read this word before. It meant the perfect alignment of three celestial bodies, usually the sun, the moon, and Earth. It could have hardly been a coincidence that Bob would choose this word with three contestants left: himself, Keith, and Allura. But no time to dwell on that, he thought, pressing the buzzer. "S-Y-Z-Y-G-Y, syzygy," Lance spelled, five ticks before the timer ran to zero.

"Correct, and it seems we have a tie." Each of the three had spelled one word, and Bob reasoned to the contestants that since Allura had been the only one to spell a word incorrectly during the lightning round, she should be disqualified.

"Fair enough," she said, dismayed, "but what is my punishment?"

"Punishment? Nothing, of course. You were great. I mean, you made it this far spelling in a language you barely even had the chance to learn? Kudos, really." He clapped his hands, and the Bii-boh-bi stage crew brought out a soft pink lounge chair. "You can relax over there and watch the rest of the bee, princess. You've earned it." One of the Bii-boh-bis handed her a bronze medal, and another stage crew member offered her a juice box.

The other stage crew member was Prince Lotor.

"What the quiznak are you doing here?" Allura screamed, dropping the medal.

He stared blankly. "Offering you a juice box?"

"Lotor, I don't think I need to remind you, but you were trying to destroy Voltron when last we met!"

"I don't suppose you've noticed," he said, looking a little hurt, "but I have been able to move past that."

"How so, exactly?"

"When I traveled through the quintessence rift, I discovered the entryway to this strange, mystical place... this 'game show studio.' It was here that I recovered from overexposure to quintessence, here I found a way to move on from my past failures, and here I discovered the true power for which I had been searching this whole time," he struck a pose, "the power of the dramatic arts!"

"Figures," Keith muttered. 

"Yup," said Lance. "Lotor has always been a drama queen."

"This is all very interesting," Bob boomed, "but we have to get back to our spelling bee."

"What need does Princess Allura have for a spelling bee," Lotor asked, placing a hand over his heart, "when I am already under her spell?"

"Ew. Dude," Lance gagged, "Allura is my girlfriend now."

Lotor raised a fabulous eyebrow. "Is that so? Last I checked, you were some sort of third wheel. Was Allura truly so quick to rebound with her second choice, whom she had been rejecting until now?" 

The words hit hard, mostly because they were true. "Oh yeah? Well, um... shut up!"

Allura sighed. "Lotor, we will discuss this later. Right now I have just been eliminated from the spelling bee, and I must watch the other paladins compete."

"Very well, princess," Lotor said, leaving the juice box on the ground beside the chair as Allura sat down.

And just like that, the spelling bee was down to only two competitors: Keith and Lance. Lance and Keith, neck and neck. The rivals. The red paladins. The obvious romantic endgame, because this is a season eight fix-it fic, and what's a fourth wall? I don't know her.

Anyway.

Despite the fact that their rivalry was supposed to be water under the bridge, they each had one intense, burning thought at the start of the final round.

_I won't come in second._

_I won't come in second._

"Keith, the leader, the last brave paladin standing—"

"Hey," Lance protested, "what about me?"

"The last brave paladin standing," Bob continued, "Your word is 'mauerbauertraurigkeit.'"

Keith blinked, as if a stranger had just walked up, introduced themselves, and punched him in the face. "May— may I have a definition?"

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit. Noun. It is defined as... the inexplicable need to push people away."

"Oh," Keith said quietly. Then, upon realizing that "oh" was a letter, he said, "May I start over?"

"You may... but make it quick. Our lovely studio audience hasn't got all day, Keith."

"M-O-W-H-E-R-B-O-W-H-E-R-T-R-O-W-R-I-G-K-I-G-H-T. Mauerbauertraurigkeit."

For once, Bob looked disappointed. "That is incorrect."

He nodded, taking the loss in silence.

"Lance," said the host, "your word is 'Weltanschauung.'"

That word... he knew that word. He felt as though he'd already won, but just to be certain, he asked, "May I have a definition and language?"

"It's from German, defined as a complete view of the world and of humanity."

"Thanks," he said, then started to spell out, "W-E-L-T-A-N-S-C-H...." He paused, looking at Keith. "A-U...U...."

_You...._

Lance was supposed to want to win. Not only that, but he _wanted_ himself to want to win. It was the answer to their whole rivalry. He had always been the second choice, the right hand man... the shadow. Keith was the first choice, the leader, and Lance was the sidekick [author's note: emphasis on the KICK]. "The only reason you're here is because he flunked out," Commander Iverson used to say. "Don't follow in his footsteps." Well, here Keith was, failing to spell a word, giving Lance the perfect opportunity to prove himself the smartest, to prove himself the best, to finally take the crown. And yet... he thought back to what Keith had said about stalling on purpose to help Allura. Wouldn't he want to do the same for Keith? Looking back, the similarities between his feelings toward Keith and Allura suddenly stood out to him, much to his alarm. But he could work those feelings out later. Right now, he needed to make a choice.

And he needed to choose quickly. Bob was already looking impatiently at Lance. "Come on, red paladin, don't make me set another timer."

Lance's mind was racing. Red paladin... red paladins... blue paladins... red... blue....

Did only one of them have to win? He knew he shouldn't be looking at Keith in a situation like this, so of course, that's where his eyes were inevitably drawn. The last time they had been on this gameshow, Keith was closed-off and cold: "I don't want to be stuck here for eternity with Lance." This time, however, he looked relaxed, thoughtful; his arms were at his side with an open smile, like the time he'd told Lance not to leave the team... and then left. Lance felt a drop in his stomach as he realized that Keith had most likely left the team to protect him. In that case, wouldn't it be fair to give up and do the same? "It's all right, Lance," Keith said softly, as if he had read Lance's thoughts. Did he know?

"...N...G. Weltanschauung."

"Garflers and warflers, we have ourselves a winner!" Confetti flew all over the studio, and the audience went so wild that one would have thought they were trying to break the sound barrier. 

"Congratulations, _Lonce_ ," Allura shouted in her cute Altean accent.

"I have to admit," Keith shout-spoke, barely above the clamor of the audience, "I thought you were going to lose on purpose there for a second."

"What? Lose on purpose? No, I would never," Lance laughed as the audience died down. "Well, except maybe for you, Allura."

As soon as the words were out of Lance's mouth, a realization came together. It hit him, to steal a phrase from Bad Lip Reading High School Musical, like a ton of pounds. Why didn't he notice sooner? His love for Allura would always hold him back, because he had to change himself to be the person she wanted. Learning Altean customs from Coran, trying to dress in proper Altean attire for their date... what was next, flat-out turning himself Altean? He shuddered at the thought.

And when was the last time he'd laughed, or even smiled, while dating Allura? He was always so single-focused on helping her, consoling her, that he was barely his own person anymore. Lotor was right, he was a second choice. She hadn't made him happy about himself even once, whereas Keith had made him laugh just seconds ago.

Keith... Lance thought of the time they watched the sunset together, when Keith had said Allura would love "the Lance who knows exactly who he is and what he has to offer." It seemed as though nothing could be further from the truth, until he realized the statement wasn't about Allura at all.

Lance knew what he had to do.

"Listen, Minmay, I mean, Allura," he said. "We can't be together anymore."

"Yes, I understand," she replied immediately. "I love you, Lonce, but just as a close friend. It was a mistake to humor your affections in the first place, and for that I am sorry."

"It's okay. I'm not going to change who I am to be with you," Lance and Keith said in unison.

"Woah," Lance stammered, "How... how did you know what I was going to say?"

Keith grinned. "I've seen this moment before... as a glimpse of the future in the quantum abyss."

"And you memorized it?"

"Of course. But... my favorite part is what happens next."

"Wait, what do y—"

Just then, a trapdoor opened on the ceiling, and Pidge crash landed in the middle of the stage. The audience laughed.

"I have been falling," she seethed, "for the past _forty dobashes_."

"That's nothing. Lance here's been falling for the past four years."

"Bold of you to assume I wasn't falling since the Garrison. I mean, what?"

Bii-boh-bi held up a cue card that said "GASP," but nobody gasped. No one was the least bit surprised.

Hunk stumbled back out onstage. "I heard a crash. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," Pidge mumbled bitterly. "The gravity down there seems to have been completely distorted. Only my pride is hurt."

"Well, smartest paladin, congratulations. We'd better get you a free ride home," Bob told Lance. "Don't worry, we have our very best pilot ready to go."

As Bob said this, another stage crew member stepped out of the wings. "Keith, is that you? You've grown up so fast!"

Keith turned around to see who it was. "Adam? But we thought—"

"You thought I was dead. I apologize," he said. "I was part of a group of elite fighter pilots enlisted by the rebels to search for Voltron in the quantum abyss. The Garrison wouldn't give us clearance for the mission, so we had to fake our own deaths just to get out. I figured your leader had a right to know, but other than that it was kept a secret. I imagine it must have been hard for Takashi, having to pretend to be in grief."

Pidge nodded. "He did seem a little... off. I mean, he was so weirdly calm about it. I don't think I saw him cry even once."

Adam laughed. "He's never been much of an actor. Come on," he said to the paladins, "I'll pilot all of you. Let's go home."

"Home?" Allura asked. "I have no home. My home has been destroyed."

"No," said Lotor. "We will rebuild Altea—"

"You murdered countless Alteans!" she shouted, burying her face in her hands, as though exasperated that this needed to be brought up again.

"No!" Lotor cried out. "I took away only as much quintessence as could be replenished. I still have the second-colony Alteans in my facility, ready to be healed with the quintessence I have gained in the rift."

At the possibility of saving lives, Allura lifted up her head. "Truly?"

"Yes. And as if that were not reason enough, I am certain that my return is the one thing that can turn the first colony Alteans to Voltron's side. The support of the colony would be enough to defeat Honerva. But wait, there's one more thing I must show you." He cupped his hands and yelled up at the tech booth above the audience. "Come down here, Narti!" 

"Narti?" Pidge repeated. "As in, your general Narti? She's alive?"

"I hit her unconscious with the flat of my blade," Lotor explained. "It broke the power of Haggar's control. We left her drifting on the ship so that she would end up here. Did you really think I was eager to throw my generals' lives away? This was the same person to whom I entrusted my feline companion, Kova. Who, by the way, would have died if Narti did, because they are bonded together. The fact that Kova survived proves that Narti is a alive as well."

While he was speaking, Narti walked onstage in a black "Stage Crew" T-shirt. She extended her hand, and the princess shook it in a nice-to-meet-you gesture.

"Lotor," Allura said, "I'm afraid I have misjudged you. I was inclined to believe Romelle, a member of my own kind, without looking into the whole story."

He gave a thoughtful nod. "Perhaps we both needed to learn that people are more than where they come from. But rebuilding Altea couldn't hurt."

Allura smiled. "Then it is settled. We will rebuild Altea, and the other paladins will return to Earth."

And thus, reality was saved. Honerva was defeated, Altea was rebuilt by Lotor, Allura, Romelle, and all five of the generals, Keith found out about the red bayard's broadsword upgrade, Lance found out about Keith's sacrifice attempt, Lance and Keith stayed together on Earth as Garrison pilot instructors and got married on the beach, Hunk and Shay opened an intergalactic restaurant that Hunk helped run while he wasn't busy being an engineer for the Garrison, Shiro finally got to take a break, Adam was alive, Matt kept his hair grown out long, Pidge learned how to shut the quiznak up, and Lotor earned a Tony award for his performance as Anatole in the Broadway revival of _Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812_. Most importantly, not a single one of them even deigned to think about a possible reality in which Lotor, Allura, or Adam died, and they especially didn't conceive of a reality in which Lance could have ever become some sort of broken, pining Altean farmer.

Because that would have been ridiculous.


End file.
